


The Warlord Prince And His Queen

by Kaetien SaDiablo (Shadowcat)



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Genre: F/M, Gen, OC Female
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:04:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat/pseuds/Kaetien%20SaDiablo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"The first rule is not to obey, Kaetien. The first rule is to protect. I will protect you, even if it has to be from yourself!"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warlord Prince And His Queen

The Craft-enhanced howl of outrage -- and the subsequent ones to follow -- carried to every part of the Hall, followed shortly by the sound of a door slamming against the wall. The argument that was going on was confusing to anyone listening as the raised voices shifted to Eyrien, to the Old Tongue and then back out again. Ten pairs of eyes focused on the pair of yelling adolescents that came through the door and into the inner garden where the gathered members of the Coven were.

"You Eyrien bastard, put me down!"

The female voice was followed by a quick whack on her behind from the person who was holding her. "That's not a nice reference to your aunt and uncle, little witch."

The girl yelled again. "You put me down, Daemonar, or I am going to twist your balls off!"

The girl's mother fought to hide her smile behind the cup she had raised to her mouth as she looked from the squabbling pair to the Arcerian cat who had followed them in. Before she could say anything, she felt the rolling waves of anger coming from three different parts of the Hall. She sighed as she put her cup down because those three waves of anger were coming in this direction -- an instant reaction to the thought of a witch in distress. She raised a brow at the Eyrien Warlord Prince who had removed her daughter from his shoulder, but who was still keeping a tight hold on the back of her shirt.

"Prince?" Jaenelle asked calmly, looking from her daughter to her older nephew whose eyes were slightly glazed.

"She was in Riada without an escort!" He roared, shaking the witch who had spun to throw a punch at his midsection. "She is supposed to be in bed resting!"

"It's no business of yours where I go or what I do, Daemonar Yaslana!" The girl fired back as she brought her foot down on his.

"It most certainly is," Daemonar roared, swinging her up again. "I serve you!"

"Then mind your own business!"

"The first rule is not to obey, Kaetien. The first rule is to protect. I will protect you, even if it has to be from yourself!"

The comment that Kaetien fired back was pithy and not very nice. She then followed up with something that any one in her mother's Coven could have said to any of their own males. "When the sun shines in hell, you Eyrien prick!"

"I'd be careful of the terms you set," Karla laughed at her niece. "Your mother has a way of making things like that come to fruition."

Three walls of cold anger entered the room, and the witches of the Coven exchanged looks. At Jaenelle's raised hand, the three men stopped their approach. Her darkened eyes were on her nephew who had pulled Kaetien close to him and called in his war blade when he felt the threat come into the room. He was holding her close to him, in a stance of protection. Taking in the appearance of Daemonar, Lucivar spread his wings and then let them settle. Daemon looked at Jaenelle and when he saw the mirth in her eyes, he felt his own anger start to fade.

"High Lord," Jaenelle said in her midnight voice. It was a command from his Queen and not a request from his daughter. He reigned in the rage he was feeling and nodded his head at her, letting her know that he was aware that there was no threat to any of the ladies. Trying to diffuse the situation -- and calm her nephew who was close to the killing edge -- Jaenelle looked at the Arcerian. "Kaevidar?"

*The she-kitten should not be out among strange males today,* he said calmly. *She is not safe.*

Jaenelle nodded and looked at her daughter. "Your moon time?"

Kaetien's voice was surly. "It had just started. I was on my way home when it did."

Lucivar looked at his son's red jewel that was blazing. "Boyo," he said softly. "She's safe. You brought her home where she's safe."

"She shouldn't be out alone," Daemonar said, his entire body quivering.

Before anyone else could say anything, it was Kaetien's voice that rang out in the room. She could feel the emotions that Daemonar was struggling with and she switched from surly girl to concerned Queen. "Reign it in, Prince," she said from where Daemonar was holding her tightly to him. "Reign. It. In."

All eyes in the room focused on Kaetien, even Jaenelle who had gotten to her feet. She noticed the look in her daughter's eyes, and then held up her hand to keep all of the other males in the room from making a move. She understood what Kaetien was doing, as did the rest of the Coven. She was taking her first step towards the Queen they all knew she would one day become. Right now, Kaetien probably had the best chance of keeping this from ending in bruises. This was the first time Daemonar had reacted like this to the scent of Kaetien starting her moon time and none of them were going to let the children get hurt because instinct was running away with one of them. It was part of being a Warlord Prince.

*Witch-child?* Saetan asked on a thread meant for her and his two sons.

*She needs to do this,* Jaenelle responded calmly, never taking her eyes off the pair. *I won't allow it to get beyond her control. Better something like this happens where we are here to help them deal with it.*

"Not safe," Daemonar said, his voice full of tension. "You're not safe."

"I _am_ safe now," she said soothingly. "You brought me home, with the Coven and the Boyos. See, Papa, Uncle Lucivar and Grandfather are all here. I'm safe now, Daemonar. You did well."

Every one in the garden waited as they watched the scene between Queen and her self-proclaimed First Escort. Daemonar was a few years older than Kaetien and they had all watched the two of them grow up -- and heard several times that Daemonar served her. It was apparent now that Kaetien had accepted the other end of that leash.

Kaetien placed a gentle hand on Daemonar's chest, moving into his embrace instead of fighting against it like she had done when he first carried her into the room. She began petting him slowly to soothe him and everyone in the garden started to relax when he vanished his blade and his shoulders started lose some of their tension. Kaetien continued to murmur soothing things to him and pet him as she worked to get him settled.

"Come on, Boyo," Saetan said, stepping forward to put an arm around his grandson. "Let the Coven take care of your Queen and we'll go to the study with your father and uncle." He smiled. "I can tell you stories of your father and your aunt and how many times I had to stop them from fighting."

"Papa!"

"Witch-child?"

Jaenelle muttered something, but said nothing further as he and Lucivar left with Daemonar. After they were gone, she walked towards her daughter as Daemon looked her and Kaetien over carefully.

*Jaenelle?* He asked on a Black thread as he looked at their daughter.

*She's fine,* his wife assured him. *She's a little unsettled, but it is the first time she's had to pull one of her men from the killing edge -- and a Warlord Prince at that. We'll take care of her and get her calmed down.*

Daemon would have followed the rest of the men out of the room at that point, except that was when his daughter's knees chose to give out on her. Daemon reacted swiftly, using Craft to keep her from falling while he got to her and picked her up in his arms.

"Witchling?" He asked gently.

"I feel all wobbly," she whispered.

"That's to be expected," Daemon said with a smile as he carried her to the nearest room with a bed. The Coven followed in his wake, as did Kaevidar. "You did well, Witchling," he said as he kissed her forehead and then left, leaving her to the care of Jaenelle and her Coven.

Once outside the room, he took a moment to close his eyes and smile. His daughter had done well. She had sensed the temper shift within Daemonar and had reacted quickly to diffuse the situation.

His daughter was going to be a very good Queen one day.

Just like her mother.


End file.
